Betrayed By The Alpha: The Spirit Luna Returns

I hovered in the corner of the damp Runt Quarters, powerless as a ghost, watching my five-year-old daughter take her last breath.

She died of a fever that a simple medicine could have cured.

But my husband, Alpha Elroy, refused to pay for it. He was too busy dining with his mistress to waste resources on a "runt."

When he finally arrived, there were no tears.

He picked up my daughter's small body like a bag of trash and tossed her into the incineration pit meant for criminals.

"Stop hiding, Annis!" he roared at the empty woods, thinking I was alive and watching. "Your trick didn't work. The runt is dead."

I screamed at him, clawing at his suit, but my hands passed right through him.

Days later, his mistress gave birth to a son. But the baby was born with a fractured soul, dying.

The doctor said only a bone marrow graft from the White Wolf bloodline could save him.

Elroy didn't hesitate. He looked toward the incineration pit.

"Retrieve the girl's body," he commanded his warriors. "Her bones will save the future Alpha."

He intended to butcher our daughter's corpse to save his illegitimate child.

Enraged, he hunted down the Rogue who had secretly stolen Emma's body before it could burn.

"Give me the body!" Elroy demanded. "And tell Annis to stop spoofing her credit cards in Europe and show her face!"

The Rogue looked at him with cold pity and threw a coroner's report at his chest.

"Annis isn't in Europe, Elroy."

"She has been rotting in a shallow grave for six months. Your mistress paid for the bullet."

Chapter 1

Annis POV:

Being dead was not peaceful. It was cold. It was a constant, gnawing ache that felt like winter had settled deep inside my bones, or what was left of them. But the cold was nothing compared to the agony of watching my daughter die.

I hovered in the corner of the Runt Quarters. This was the place where the Pack threw the weak, the sick, and the unwanted. The air here smelled of mildew and despair.

"Mommy..."

The whimper was so faint it barely disturbed the stale air. Emma lay on a cot that was too small even for her five-year-old body. Her skin was burning. I could see the fever flushing her pale cheeks. It was the Pre-shift fever. For a normal pup, this was a celebration. It meant their wolf was waking up. But for Emma, whose wolf was buried deep under my recessive genes, it was a death sentence without the medicine.

I screamed. I lunged forward, trying to grab her hand, trying to smooth the damp hair back from her forehead.

The overhead bulb flickered violently, buzzing like an angry hornet, but my hand passed right through her.

I was nothing. Just a collection of memories and regrets, tethered to this cursed land by a Moon Goddess who clearly hated me.

The door creaked open. It was Old Martha, the caretaker. She looked at Emma, and her face crumpled. She tapped her temple, her eyes glazing over. She was initiating a Mind-Link.

In a wolf pack, the Mind-Link is a telepathic web that connects us all. It allows instant communication. But since I was dead, I could only hear the echoes of the Alpha's voice because my soul was still stupidly, tragically bound to his.

Alpha Elroy, Martha projected. The pup... Emma. She is convulsing. The fever is too high. We need the Moonflower extract. Please.

The silence that followed was heavy. Then, I heard him. His voice was a deep baritone that used to make my heart flutter before he crushed it. Now, it just sounded like judgment.

I am at dinner, Martha. Elroy's voice echoed in the room, cold and detached. Do not disturb me with trivialities.

Sir, she will die tonight without it, Martha pleaded. She is your-

She is a runt, Elroy cut her off. The link crackled with his irritation. She has no wolf. She is barely human. The Moonflower extract costs a fortune. I will not waste Pack resources on a failed bloodline. Let nature take its course. Besides, her mother drains enough of my accounts from wherever she's hiding in Europe. Let Annis pay for it.

The link snapped shut.

"No!" I shrieked, clawing at the air. "Elroy, you monster! I'm not in Europe! I'm dead! She is your daughter! She has the White Wolf blood! You just can't smell it!"

The temperature in the room plummeted ten degrees, frost creeping up the window pane, but no one heard me.

Hours passed. The fever spiked. Emma's little body arched in pain. She called for me one last time, her voice a broken whisper. Then, she went still. The tiny, frantic beat of her heart stopped.

I fell to my knees, ghostly tears that wouldn't fall burning my eyes. My daughter was gone.

It was a week later when Elroy finally came.

He pulled up in his sleek black SUV. He wore a suit that cost more than this entire building. He didn't look sad. He looked annoyed. He held a box of expensive chocolates in one hand-a mocking gift, as if candy could fix death.

He walked into the room where Martha had laid Emma out. He didn't even take off his sunglasses.

"Where is she?" Elroy demanded. His voice carried the weight of the Alpha Command-a power that forces lower-ranking wolves to obey. Martha trembled, her knees buckling.

"She is there, Alpha," Martha whispered, pointing to the small bundle covered by a rough white sheet.

Elroy sneered. "Stop the theatrics. I know Annis is hiding somewhere. She's been spoofing her location for months to avoid me. She's using the kid to get money out of me. It's pathetic."

"She is dead, Alpha," Martha sobbed. "Annis hasn't been seen since the Winter Solstice. That was six months ago."

Elroy stepped forward and ripped the sheet away.

He stared at Emma's corpse. She looked so small. So fragile. There was no grief in his eyes, only disgust.

"A shell," he muttered. "No wolf spirit. Just a weak human shell."

Then, he did something that made my spirit roar with a rage so potent I thought I might materialize.

He reached down and picked up my daughter's body by the back of her shirt, like she was a piece of dirty laundry. He turned and walked out the back door, toward the incineration pit where the Pack disposed of Rogue wolves-trespassers and criminals.

"Elroy, don't you dare!" I screamed, chasing after him. I grabbed at his arm, but my fingers turned to mist against his suit jacket.

He stood at the edge of the pit. The fires were low, but the smell of ash was strong. Stray, feral dogs were already circling the perimeter, drawn by the scent of death.

He tossed her.

He didn't gently place her down. He tossed my baby girl onto the cold concrete slab next to the pit, like she was garbage.

"Annis!" Elroy roared.

He released his Alpha Pheromones. It was a crushing wave of dominance, smelling of ozone and storm clouds. The feral dogs whimpered and flattened themselves against the ground.

"I know you are watching!" he shouted at the empty woods. "Stop hiding! Your little trick didn't work. The runt is dead."

I stood in front of him, screaming into his face. "I am here! I am right here! I'm dead, you blind fool! And you just threw away the only good thing you ever created!"

He looked right through me. His eyes were cold, hard obsidian.

"If you don't show your face by the next full moon," Elroy threatened the silence, "I will feed this carcass to the Rogues myself."

He turned on his heel and marched back to his car.

And because the Mate Bond-the mystical tie that binds souls together-was still twisted and active, I was yanked forward. An invisible chain wrapped around my chest, dragging me behind the man who had just discarded our child.

Annis POV:

The villa was warm. It smelled of lavender and expensive polish, a stark contrast to the rot of the Runt Quarters. But under the pleasant scents, there was something foul.

I floated in the corner of the master bedroom. Elroy was pacing.

On the bed lay Ivonne.

She was beautiful in a sharp, dangerous way. But to me, she looked like a corpse painted to look alive. I drifted closer, sniffing the air. The scent was faint, masked by layers of perfume, but I knew it. Black magic. It smelled like sulfur and old blood. It was a scent blocker, used to hide one's true nature.

"Is... is the girl really gone?" Ivonne asked. Her voice was weak, feigned. She rubbed her swollen belly.

"Dead," Elroy said, loosening his tie. "Annis didn't show up. She abandoned the child's body. She truly has no heart."

"Oh, Elroy," Ivonne cooed, reaching out a hand. "She never deserved you. Those credit card alerts from Paris prove she moved on long ago."

Suddenly, Ivonne gasped. Her water broke.

The next few hours were a blur of activity. The Pack Doctor arrived. Maids scurried with hot water. Elroy held Ivonne's hand, his face a mask of tenderness I had never seen directed at me.

When the baby was finally born, Elroy held him up like a trophy.

"A son," Elroy breathed. "My heir. The future Alpha."

I looked at the baby. He was chubby and pink. But when I looked closer, with the eyes of a spirit, I saw the truth. There was no golden aura of an Alpha around him. His energy was muddy, chaotic. He smelled like a Rogue-a wolf with no loyalty, no honor.

And he was sick.

The baby's skin turned a terrifying shade of blue. His breathing hitched.

The Pack Doctor, a nervous man named Dr. Vance, scanned the infant with a handheld medical device. His face went pale.

"Alpha..." Dr. Vance stammered.

"What is it?" Elroy snapped, his protective instinct flaring.

"The child... his spiritual core is fractured," the doctor whispered. "It's a congenital defect. His heart cannot pump the mana needed to sustain a wolf form. He will die within hours."

Ivonne screamed. "Do something! Save him!"

"There is only one way," Dr. Vance said, trembling. "A graft. We need spiritual bone marrow to stabilize his core. Specifically, marrow from a direct ancestor with high regenerative properties. The White Wolf bloodline."

The room went silent.

My blood ran cold. The White Wolf. My family. We were legends, healers, rare and hunted. I had kept my lineage a secret to protect us.

Elroy's eyes narrowed. He looked out the window, toward the direction of the Runt Quarters. Toward the incineration pit.

"The girl," Elroy said. His voice was devoid of emotion. "Emma."

"Sir?" Dr. Vance asked.

"Annis was a nobody," Elroy reasoned aloud, pacing again. "But her grandmother... there were rumors she had white fur. If the runt carried even a trace of that gene..."

"The marrow would still be viable," Dr. Vance confirmed, wiping sweat from his brow. "Even if she has passed, the bones protect the essence for up to twenty-four hours. But we must hurry before the decay sets in."

"She is trash," Elroy said firmly. "She was weak in life. Let her serve the Pack in death. Her bones will save the future Alpha."

"No!" I shouted, rushing at him. I tried to punch him, to scratch his eyes out, but I passed through him like smoke. "She is not spare parts! She is your daughter! Don't you touch her!"

Elroy didn't hear my screams. He tapped his earpiece.

"Warriors," he commanded. "Go to the disposal site. Retrieve the girl's body. Bring it to the clinic. Prep for surgery."

He looked at his dying, illegitimate son with love, and then thought of my dead daughter as nothing more than a resource container.

"I will save our son, Ivonne," Elroy promised, kissing her forehead. "Whatever the cost."

I felt a crack in my soul, a deep fissure of hatred that finally overpowered the love I once held for him.

Elroy POV:

"Gone?"

My roar shattered the crystal vase on the mantelpiece. The shards rained down onto the hardwood floor.

The head Warrior, a massive brute named Kael, bowed his head, exposing his neck in submission. The Alpha Command rolling off me was making him sweat.

"Yes, Alpha," Kael stammered. "We went to the pit. The... the body. It was gone. There were tire tracks. Heavy ones. Someone took her."

"Annis," I hissed. The name tasted like bile. "She was watching. She waited until I left and stole the corpse to spite me. She knew. She somehow knew I needed it."

My Inner Wolf paced in the back of my mind. He was agitated, scratching at the walls of my consciousness. He had been unsettled since the birth of my son, refusing to howl in celebration. Now, he was growling, a low, mournful sound.

Find her, my wolf urged. Find the mate.

I ignored him. Ivonne was my mate. My nose had been tricked once, but Ivonne was the one by my side.

"Get me the Tracker," I ordered. "The best one money can buy."

Two hours later, we were deep in the forest, miles from the Pack borders. The Tracker, a silent man with a scar running down his nose, had followed a scent trail that was over a year old.

We stopped in front of a dilapidated cabin. It was hidden by overgrown vines and moss.

"This is where she lived," the Tracker said. "Before..." He trailed off.

I kicked the door open.

The inside was small and dusty. There were children's drawings on the wall. Drawings of a wolf that looked like me. My chest tightened, but I pushed the feeling away.

"Annis!" I shouted. "Come out! Give me the body, and I will let you live!"

Silence answered me.

Then, a shadow moved in the doorway.

"You are loud for a man who is blind," a voice said.

I spun around. Standing there was Korey.

I remembered him. He was Annis's childhood friend. A weak, scrawny boy who used to follow her around. But the man standing before me was not weak. He was tall, his shoulders broad. He wore a leather jacket, and his eyes glowed with a power that rivaled my own.

He wasn't a Beta anymore. He was an Alpha. Maybe even a King of the Rogues.

"Korey," I growled. "Where is she? Where is my wife?"

"Wife?" Korey laughed, but there was no humor in it. It was a cold, sharp sound. "You haven't called her that in five years, Elroy. You called her a burden. A mistake."

"Give me the girl's body," I demanded, stepping forward. "My son needs a transplant."

Korey's face twisted in pure disgust. "You want to butcher your daughter to save that abomination Ivonne birthed? You truly have fallen."

"Watch your tongue!" I lunged, but Korey didn't flinch.

"She isn't here, Elroy," Korey said softly.

"Liar! The Tracker smelled her!"

"He smelled her memory," Korey said. He reached into his jacket pocket. "You want to know where Annis is? You want the truth?"

He pulled out a stack of photos and threw them at my chest.

They fluttered to the floor.

I looked down.

My breath stopped. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.

The photos were gruesome. They showed a body. A woman. Her skin was burned black in places-the unmistakable burn of Silver nitrate. Her clothes were torn. Her face... it was Annis. But her eyes were empty. Glassy.

"The police report is attached," Korey said, his voice void of mercy. "DNA confirmed. She died six months ago, Elroy. She was hunted down by Rogues. Shot with silver bullets. Tortured. I was out of the country on a mission. I only found her remains yesterday. I came back for the child, but I was too late."

"No," I whispered. I stepped back, shaking my head. "No. I saw her... I felt her... I get alerts from her credit cards in Paris every week."

"You felt nothing," Korey spat. "And those alerts? Digital ghosts. While you were playing house with that snake Ivonne, Annis was rotting in a shallow grave."

I stared at the photo of my wife's mangled hand. On her finger, visible through the blood, was the cheap silver band I had given her when we were teenagers.

My knees hit the floor.